


Second Place Dream

by Caradee



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Dreams, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:11:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caradee/pseuds/Caradee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Dom sees playing out before him tells him all he needs to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Place Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Two More Prompts filled out. This time, **Seeing You with New Eyes** and **Retrocognition**.  A sudden time warp in which you find yourself in the past, seeing and experiencing events of which you had no prior knowledge. This more involves seeing the past rather than interacting with it. Physically entering the past would be a timeslip/time travel.(Courtesy of[](http://community.livejournal.com/paranormal25/profile)[ **paranormal25**](http://community.livejournal.com/paranormal25/)

What Dom sees playing out before him tells him all he needs to know. _I must be on drugs,_ he thinks numbly, watching as himself from earlier that day dressed in the same green T-shirt and loose jeans, snaps angrily at his best friend.

 _Anger_ , Dom reminds himself, not jealousy. He was angry that Elijah had kissed Orlando on the lips behind some lone tree. He was angry that his friend had been toying with such feelings and ideas and hadn’t talked about it with him, Dom, Elijah’s _“best mate.”_

He was angry. Not Jealous.

Elijah’s bright eyes flicker with hurt and anger as the younger man sneers something back.

 _Why am I watching this?_ Dom wonders, _I know what happens._

He remembers the words Elijah shot back at him, “You don’t fucking know anything, Dom.”

His double’s eyes narrow at the smaller man, “Damn right I don’t know shit, because you don’t tell me, Lijah. Now how is that fair? Blaming me when it’s all your fuckin’ fault.”

Something sparks through Elijah that Dom didn’t notice in the heat of the battle, and past Dom doesn’t notice either. There is a pang of realization in Elijah’s features, a hesitation before the younger man’s emotions set in, and suddenly he is furious. “Well then I guess we aren’t that close.” Spinning on his heel, Elijah storms away, leaving both Dom’s watching with their jaws slacked.

Dom turns to his past self expectantly, gesturing to the escaping figure, “What are you doing?” he demands, “Go after him, apologize. Say you’re a stupid sod.”

But past Dom just watches his friend walk away, a glum and accepting look on his face. Dominic frowns, biting the inside of his cheek harshly as he moves towards his other self, “Did you fucking hear me?”

The ground under his feet suddenly shifts, and he trips forward. Falling clumsily through his double, who disappears in wisps of air as they make contact. Startled, Dom quickly catches his balance and turns around only to find himself in a completely different setting.

Where he has once been standing on the set of the Rings he is now in front of a familiar small suburban home. The lighting has gone from midday to dark. Dom blinks, unsure of the change that has occurred, when the door to the house opens and his other self appears again, dressed in a light black jacket and face pleasantly flushed. Other Dom inhales the night air deeply and sighs with a grin, basking under the bright porch light as it illuminates his blessed spot.

Elijah suddenly pops in the door frame, looking solemn, “You sure you have to go? I mean…” he voice trails off as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, “I think Orlando is staying the night. You can too if you want.”

“Thanks, Doodle, but Bill and I have plans bright and earlier tomorrow,” Other Dom says dismissingly.

From where he stands watching, Dom’s head tilts at the scene. He remembers this night. It was nearly two weeks ago, when he, Elijah, and Orlando had a drinking party while playing games. In the morning he and Billy were meeting at the café to run lines and shop.

The scene is playing out as if it was really happening. Nearly everything is perfect, from the leaves on the bushes of Elijah’s yard, to the clothes he was wearing. Elijah was dressed in a well fitted sweater that was forest green. Dom remembers because the color had looked surprisingly good on the younger man, and made him look more elf-like than Orlando.

His dream is good at minor details, Dom would give it that.

“Are you okay to drive?” Elijah continues to question.

“Fine, I live like... ten minutes away,” Dream Dom gives an encouraging grin, “Don’t worry too much, Doodle. You’ll ruin that fine face of yours.”

Had he really said that? Dom couldn’t remember, he must have been tipsier than he thought.

One of Elijah’s hands came up to his mouth as he nodded numbly, “Alright, see you Monday I guess.”

“Ta.” The not Dom says, ruffling the American’s fur like hair before walking the short distance to his car. Dom watches the imposter drive off in his used black car. Elijah stands on the door stoop as the vehicle vanishes into the dark depths of Dom’s mind, before finally retreating into the house.

Dom weighs his options. Following his dream self would be near impossible since the man had driven off, not to mention boring. Elijah’s house was nearby, party probably still rolling between him and Orlando. _Might as well pop in,_ he shrugs and makes his way to the door.

His mind wonders what he would see upon entering Elijah’s house. It is a dream, not to mention _his_ dream, causing Dom to expect damn near anything. His hand falls to the door knob before promptly falling through it.

 _Of course, dream._ He reminds himself before taking a deep breath. Dom quietly prepares himself for whatever may happen next before jumping through the door. Unlike the last time though, he finds himself inside Elijah’s familiar bare house instead of a different environment altogether. Bewildered, he looks around, confused and surprised at the feeling of Deja vu at being in Elijah’s house. He recognizes everything, and his brain has not skimped on the detail. Beer bottles and cd cases litter the ground, the keys are in the usual spot, hanging on the quaint key rack Astin had bought, and the sound of Radiohead filters throughout the small house.

Voices pull Dom out of his gawking, as Orlando’s unique accent filters in from the living room. “…how did it go?”

Following the voice Dom walks through the kitchen and into Elijah’s small living room where Orlando is lounging on the couch, the same position Dom remembered him being in most of the night, and Elijah stands by the stereo. Fiddling with the volume knob, remaining quiet.

Apparently this is the wrong answer for dream Orlando as he sits up, attention fully focused on Elijah, “Come on Lij,” he says, exasperated, “he _still_ doesn’t know?”

Dom perks, _know what?_ He turnsto Elijah, looking at the younger man’s face which lies hidden as the American pretends to play with the bass of the track. Turning back to Orlando, Dom’s brows narrow.

 _Of course Orlando would know_ , his mind snaps bitterly, apparently he and Elijah have a _thing._

Still lingering anger, he realizes. Not jealousy.

Orlando whistles long and high, “He’s gonna have a cow, ” he says.

“Not if he doesn’t know.”

“He deserves to know. He _is_ your best friend,” The Englishman counters, surprising Dom with his loyalty. “Your best mate should know when you lose your virginity.”

Dom gawks at the elf, _what?_ He turns to Elijah, the other man has turned to face Orlando with a look of complete guilt and shame written across his face. “Girls do that, ” Is all the American replies with.

No denial, no explanation, just that. Dom stares at him, mouth still hanging open. _What?_

Orlando stares as well, “and gay men,” He answers, “Are you afraid he’ll be mad? Because I guarantee you… well… yeah he’ll probably be mad.”

 _Fuck you Olri,_ Dom glares.

“I’ll help you if you want, ” he continues to offer.

Elijah opens his mouth as if he is about to say something, to justify his actions in some way, when the ground moves again. Dom’s heart lurches in his throat. _No, wait! I don’t want to leave. I want to find out…_

But it’s too late. Elijah’s living room has morphed into a dimly lit bar, where music is playing across speakers, and the laughter of men and women fills the air. Dom looks around, he doesn’t remember the place, but his brain tells him there must be some reason why he was brought here.

It doesn’t take long for him to find that reason. At the bar, seated between two burly men, is a small frame he recognizes well. Elijah.

Lips pursed, he moves towards the bar until he is nearly standing over Elijah’s shoulder. The younger man is slumped over an empty mug of beer, and the bartender is looking at him with pitying eyes. “Sorry kid, I’m going to have to cut you off.”

“Fuck you,” Elijah snaps with a slight slur, “I’m of age.”

A half full mug of beer slides from the man next to him, and both Elijah and Dom turn to the stranger who has kind eyes and a flirtatious smile. “You can have mine, ” the man offers, raising a suggestive brow that Dom is sure Elijah doesn’t notice as he beams back and chirps a happy, “thanks.”

Any idiot can see where this is going. He turns to his friend, who is dividing his attention between his new beer and the stranger as the man tries his hand at flirting. To Dom’s horror, Elijah is responding.

“What’s got you looking for answers at the bottom of a mug?”

Elijah hesitates, sipping the beer before answering with a simple, “Things.”

“Things alone don’t usually put a man in a bar by himself.”

Blue eyes look up at being called a man, and Dom nearly slams his head against the bar before remembering he’ll probably just go right through it. Fuck Elijah and his naivety.

“It’s usually things _and_ a someone, ” the stranger continues, “Now I’m not saying I know exactly what your problems are. But if someone is stupid enough to leave you in a bar by yourself, drinking your loneliness away, then they must be fuckin crazy.” 

Dom can’t believe it, but Elijah’s eyes are shining at the man’s words. He believes them. But then again, drunk Elijah is usually a daft git. Daft, and gullible. Dom can recall numerous times when he, Billy, or Astin had to stop the tipsy American from doing something he would regret in the morning. And at times Dom had encouraged said tipsy American and partook in his antics. But at least someone had been there. He glances around the bar hopefully, but no one is around. Not one of the fellowship, not even a stage crew. Elijah is on his own.

“What do you say we go somewhere private and talk, ” He suddenly hears the man say, and Dom nearly snaps his neck as he turns to the nearby conversation.

Elijah doesn’t even hesitate. He merely pushes the beer away and nods, wearing a brave face. “Sounds good,” he agrees, and Dom feels himself break.

 _“No,”_ he says firmly, reaching out to grab Elijah’s wrist to stop him from doing something he would regret, when the world spins and the floor falls. _“No!”_

But the area has changed again and he is back in Elijah’s living room, which is darker than before and less of a mess. He looks around wildly, still fazed from the last whirling dream. Elijah is nowhere to be seen.

A snore jars himand grey eyes fall on the couch where he sees other Dom, making an appearance again. However, his counterpart is sleeping soundly, head propped on one of the couch’s arms with his hands flung over his head.

Looking at himself sleeping while he knows he is dreaming could be stacked as one of the strangest sensations Dom has ever felt, but he can’t help but stare.

The sound of wood creaking resounds from nearby and suddenly Elijah is stepping into the living room, an arm full of blankets in hand. Dom watches silently as his friend moves past him and stands before the couch, fiddling with the blanket as he tries to find the edge. In a fluid motion, he takes the quilt and gently places it over the sleeping Dom.

The care and tenderness he puts into making sure the blanket covers every inch of the sleeping figure touches Dom, as he watches Elijah stand up and sigh. The American doesn’t leave though. He stands in place, staring. His hand tapping against his thigh nervously before he brings it up and sticks a finger in his mouth, chewing impatiently on a nail. Dom notes his friend looks torn. Looks upset about something.

He tries to remember what night this is, if they had a fight, or maybe some troubling news, but he can’t recall. There have been too many nights spent sleeping at Elijah’s, or with Elijah crashing at his place.

Dream Elijah suddenly tears his finger away from his face and curses under his breath, “I’m such a fucking coward, ” he says, before turning and marching past Dom again, off towards his own room.

Dom turns and watches him go, he wants to say something, wants to ask his friend what is bothering him, but he can’t. He knows the world around him will change soon and it’s better to just let the dream take its course.

He does wonder though, how he didn’t see it before, when everything changes.

The sound of panting is what he first hears and then a familiar sound of skin smacking skin. Dom feels his stomach clench at what he might see next. Turning around, he is surprised to still find himself in Elijah’s living room. The furniture is arranged differently, and boxes are stacked, taking up nearly every available space. The TV is set up in the corner where Dom doesn’t remember it being, and the couch is slanted at an angle in front of it, to allow more room for the boxes.

The noise is coming from the television, he realizes, as a large man thrusts into a attractive woman while she moans and withers. The scene captures Dom’s attention for a second, before he notices the tuff of hair peeking over the couch’s head. He moves forward and sees Elijah, eyes closed, lost in his own world as he pants softly and moves his hand over his cock.

Dom’s face heats up immediately. He shouldn’t watch this. Why is his brain coming up with this? He moves to step away when he hears it though. The faint hitch of breath and a hoarse, “Dom.”

He freezes, and turns back to his friend, wondering if he has been caught in the act. Elijah’s eyes are still closed tight, and his mouth is hanging open as he thrusts into his own hand. “Oh fuck, Dom, ” he calls again as his face suddenly scrunches and body tenses.

Dom turns away quickly, giving Elijah the privacy of his climax while his mind reels. Suddenly everything makes sense. The pieces of the puzzle fit together perfectly. He had just been putting it together backwards.

Elijah… Elijah wants him.

Not Orlando. Never Orlando.

It is him.

The living room spins again, and everything turns black. The place Dom wakes up to is his own bedroom, under his own sheets.

 

\---

 

He makes sure he gets on set early the next morning before too many people could be scurrying about the area. Walking into the make up trailer, he is relieved to see only Elijah standing by the stereo, flipping through his book of cds, not yet transformed into the angelic Frodo.

The door closes with a loud slam, causing the younger man to look up, and upon laying eyes on Dom, his face whitens. Dom knows what he has to do, he gives a weary smile which Elijah merely blinks at. “I’m sorry,” he offers quickly.

“Sorry for what?” Elijah snaps, turning back to his cds. Dismissing him, the same way Dom had done to the young man so many times before.

Grimacing, he tries a new tactic. Dom walks up to the stereo and glances at the cd’s over Elijah’s shoulder, bumping arms with him in a friendly manner, “Sorry for being a complete twat,”

Elijah slams the book close with an audible smack and whirls to stare at him. Blue eyes narrowed in accusation, “You’re always a twat,” he says in a simple manner.

“True, but I’ve been an especially good one recently,” Dom agrees, staring into the cool gaze with nerves of steel, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he finally admits, and watches as Elijah’s eyes squint at the words. His mind visibly trying to put together the meaning behind them and as things start to make sense to the younger man, Dom can noticeably see him break.

“You still don’t fucking get it,” Elijah seethes quietly, his voice no more than a quivering whisper as he blinks and looks away.

Dom shakes his head, “No, that’s just it Lij. I _do_ get it,” he leans forward and touches their heads together. Elijah startles at the contact, and turns to stare at him. It is time to take things a step forward as Dom touches his lips against the hairline of Elijah’s brow.

The silence that follows the action is deafening, and for a second the Englishman feels his heart stop. Did he have everything wrong? Had it all really just been his imagination?

Suddenly two small arms wrap around him and squeeze, apology accepted.

“We need to talk,” Elijah mumbles, his breath hitting Dom’s neck, making the man sigh and swoon into his touch.

“I know,” Dom nods, remembering his vivid dream.

“I’ve kept a lot of things from you, Dommie. I’m sorry.” The confession comes out as another barely audible whisper and all Dom can do is shake his head lightly and hug the body closer to his own.

“Don’t be,” he tells the man in his arms, “this is what second chances are for.”


End file.
